All In (Cedar Mountain University #2) (22 page)

The second the words are out of my mouth I see the flash of pity
that flips through his eyes. It comes so quickly, so terrifyingly fast, the
force of it hitting me like a punch in my gut. “Is he here?”

“He doesn’t want to see you, Grace.”

I knew that. I knew he wouldn’t want to see me. “Is he still here?”

“Let me take you home, Grace.” Bradley’s voice is soft and low.
Gentle like he’s trying to soothe a child.

“I don’t want to go home. I want to see Jacob. Is he still here?” I
feel the hysteria building inside of me.

Bradley glances back toward the house, up to the second floor where
I know Jacob’s room is located. “He’s in there, isn’t he?” I move forward,
pushing past Bradley and making my way up the stairs toward the house. His hand
snags my upper arm, stopping my progression. “I just want to explain.”

“He doesn’t want to see you, Grace. I think you should go. Let me
take you home, okay?”

Yanking out of his grasp I move further up the stairs. “I don’t
want to go home. I want to talk to Jacob.”

“Grace, let me call Kelsey to come and get you. Or one of your
brothers.”

“I just want to talk to him.” Desperation makes my voice hoarse.
The tears that wouldn’t fall before clog my throat, making it nearly impossible
to talk at all. “Please. I just want to talk to him.”

“Grace, I—”

“I’ve got it, Brad. Thanks.”

My head swings around, my gaze drinking in the sight of Jacob
standing in the doorway. He looks as shitty as I feel. But he’s standing in
front of me, so there’s a chance that I can make this right. “Jacob, just let
me explain.”

His eyes are solid ice, frozen blocks of emptiness as they move
over my face. I’m holding my breath, waiting for whatever he’s going to tell
me. When he stays silent I take a step toward him, only freezing when he takes
a step back into the house. “Jacob.”

“I don’t want to listen, Grace. You had plenty of time to tell me
that Grant kissed you.”

“It didn’t mean anything!”

“Then you should have told me!” He shoves a hand through his hair.
“You should have just told me the truth. I could have handled that. I could
have handled the truth, but you didn’t give it to me. You lied.”

“Because it didn’t mean anything!” I cry again, taking another step
towards him. “He doesn’t mean anything. There was no reason to tell you.”

“There was every reason to tell me.”

How am I supposed to argue that? How am I supposed to defend myself
against the truth? Because I should have told him. “Jacob, please.”

“No, Grace. I won’t fight him for you.”

“You aren’t fighting him for me. There isn’t anything to fight,
Jacob. There isn’t anything between Grant and me.”

“I was wrong, Grace. I thought you were ready to move on, to get
past him and to be with someone else. To love someone else. Obviously you
weren’t. You need to go, Grace. Stop calling, stop texting, don’t come back
here again. I won’t be with someone who can’t give me everything.”

“I’m all in.” I whisper. “I swear I’m all in, Jacob.”

“Not from where I’m standing.”

Christmas morning it snowed. Just a light dusting, enough to
blanket my parents yard in a pretty layer of white that glistened under the
sunlight. I watched it fall from the window in my bedroom, curled up in the
small reading chair that had never really been used for reading. The chair had
gotten more use in the last couple of weeks than I think it ever had before.

I can hear the Christmas music blaring from the living room below.
It had become the way my mother had woken us up ever since we’d hit high school
and stopped waking up at the crack of dawn to see what Santa Claus had brought
us. I can smell the fresh baked bread, and the underlying hint of bacon
drifting up the stairs.

Every day since I had been home seemed longer then the day before.
These long weeks of Winter break stretched out endlessly in front of me.
Typically I reveled in being out of school and away from classes for any length
of time.

Right now I’d give anything for even the slight distraction that
classes would give me.

As it was, I had all the time in the world to think, ample amounts
of free time to miss Jacob and to call myself every name under the sun because
I’d been such an idiot. I’d rationalized not telling him that Grant had made a
move. No matter how small the move, no matter that I had pulled away, I should
have been honest.

I know that every morning when I wake up the pain is going to get a
little less sharp. It will never go away, not entirely, and I could be okay
with that. Would be okay with that. But it would lessen, and I would figure out
a way to be happy. I would settle into a different level of happiness, maybe
not as bright as before, but happy none the less.

I would survive without Jacob, there was no doubt in my mind.

I just didn’t fucking want to.

Glancing down to my phone, I swipe my finger across the screen,
drinking in the picture of the two of us that I have set as my wallpaper. We’re
facing each other, his forehead dropped down against mine, our noses brushing
slightly. His dimple is flashing, and there’s this unmistakable look of pure
joy on my face as I look at him.

I hit the icon for my text messages, watching as it instantly pulls
up the last text I had sent him. It had been begging him for forgiveness, but
that isn’t the one I want to see. I scroll up, my finger brushing lightly over
the screen as the words go by in a blur until I get to the one I want. My eyes
scan over the words, even though I know each one by heart.

I think about you more than I should. Yet not nearly enough. You’re
in every thought I have, and I wish I could have a million more so I could
think about you in those as well.

So just like I know that I’ll find the balance I need to move on
with my life, I know that I’ll never find someone who makes me feel like Jacob
Ross did.

“Gracie Lou, it’s time to come down and eat, and see what Santa
brought.”

I glance over my shoulder to find my father standing in the doorway
of my bedroom. His handsome face is wrinkled in concern as he watches me. Just
like it has been every day since I came home.

“Okay, Daddy.” I murmur, dropping my feet down to the ground so I
can push out of the chair. He doesn’t move away from the doorway, but instead
opens his arms and I snuggle inside of them like I always did as a child. I
wish he could kiss away the pain of this like he did when I feel down and
scrapped a knee. His kisses had been filled with magic then, at least to me.
One brush of them across what hurt and everything seemed infinitely better.

“Oh, baby girl, I hate to see you like this.” His arms tighten
around me as he whispers the words into my hair. I feel the prick of tears, the
sting of them biting at the back of my eyes, but they don’t fall. They never
fall.

“I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t doubt you will, I just hate to see you hurting when I
can’t fix it for you.”

I pull away, wrapping
an
arm
around his waist and tugging him out of my room. “This time it’s my fault.”

“What do you say this morning you try to put it all aside? We can
see who can eat more bacon, listen to your mother scold me about my cholesterol,
which is always fun, and then dig into the presents.”

I give him a weak smile. “You really do need to do better about
with what you eat.”

“Someone should have told that to the person who fried up the bacon
this morning.”

Coming down the stairs, I round the corner and head into the
kitchen where everyone else is already waiting. My mother has gone above and
beyond this morning, and I see all my favorite breakfast foods spread across
the table.

I’d lost some weight in the last few weeks, weight I couldn’t
afford to lose, and I knew my parents were worried. I wasn’t consciously trying
not to eat, it just happened.

I slide into my usual seat, not saying a word when a large stack of
blueberry pancakes and several slices of bacon are put in front of me.
Conversation picks up around me as I dig into the pancakes. Everyone is here
this morning though Ally and Holden will head over to be with her family after
lunch. A lunch which typically Grant has eaten with us every year since he and
Holden became friends.

I don’t have a clue if he’s coming today or not. Honestly at this
point I don’t care. It won’t change anything for me whether he’s there or not.

I move through the motions of the day, the same as I’ve done every
other day before this one. Grant doesn’t come for lunch, but swings by to talk
to my parents. I know he considers them his own. I realize now it was
unrealistic of me to think that I could close him completely out of my life. He
was too ingrained, too imbedded in my history for me to simply walk away. Our
relationship hadn’t been ours alone. So closing him out of my life would close
him out of everyone else’s, and it wasn’t fair of me to make that decision for
them.

It’s just barely past midnight the morning after Christmas when I
head downstairs to make myself a cup of hot chocolate. Sleep has been
intermittent since everything happened, and it seemed that tonight was one of
the nights that there was none to be had. I’d lain awake in my bed for the last
couple of hours staring at the ceiling.

I get the Keurig set up before moving to the fridge and pulling out
the leftover pecan pie that my mother had made. I forgo a plate and just set
the pie pan on the table and dig a fork out of the silverware drawer.

“I hope you’re not planning to eat that entire thing by yourself.”

I jump just a little at the sound of my mother’s voice. She’s
standing in the doorway, her ratty old blue robe wrapped around her. I give her
a small smile. “I’m sorry, Mama, I tried to be quiet.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, just grab your mama a fork.”

I open the drawer again, pulling another fork out before heading
over to the table. She lets me get in two bites before she digs in for her
first. “Tell me what happened.”

“I screwed up.”

“Everybody screws up, baby, that isn’t news. It’s how you handle
the screw up that matters.”

I shake my head. “Where were you a couple of weeks ago?” I ask with
a dry laugh. “It was how I handled the situation that was the screw up. I
knowingly kept something from him, and he found out.” I shrug my shoulders.
“It’s as simple and stupid as that.”

“Nothing is ever that simple.”

I shove a bite of pie in my mouth before I get up to grab my hot
chocolate. I sit back at the table, shoving the cup over to share. “I’m going
to be okay.” I tell her. “Maybe a little duller, but okay.”

“Nobody shines, baby, not if they’re really living. Life is all
about getting chipped and broken, having the shine stripped away. Being shiny
and whole means you’re sitting on the shelf watching everyone else enjoy life.”
She sips the hot chocolate before moving it back in front of me.

“I miss him. With Grant, I missed being in a relationship, being
part of a pair and never worrying about being alone. I just miss Jacob. He told
me it was over, and he walked away, and I still miss him.” I drain the rest of
the hot chocolate before getting up to rinse the cup in the sink. I hear my mom
moving around the kitchen, putting the remaining pie away for later. I brush a
kiss across her cheek before heading back upstairs.

Two days
before the start of the spring semester my cell phone rings just as I’m getting
ready to crawl into bed. I feel my brow furrow as I catch sight of Robby’s name
glowing on my screen. Rubbing my thumb across the screen to unlock it, I pull
it up to my ear. “Robby? It’s the middle of the night. Are you okay?”

“Grace,”
Robby sounds panicked. “Thank Christ you answered the phone. I couldn’t get
Holden or Cole to answer.” I can hear muted voices in the background, and the
infliction of Robby’s voice makes me think he’s on the move. “What’s up,
Robby?”

“It’s Grant.
Shit, hold this on the cut, man. It’s bleeding like a motherfucker.”

How exactly
does a motherfucker bleed? “Robby, what’s the matter with Grant? And who’s
bleeding?”

“Grant.
Grant’s bleeding.” He audibly sucks in air. I’ve never heard Robby this
rattled. I roll out of bed, keeping my phone tucked neatly against my ear as I
dig through my dresser for clothes.

“Why is
Grant bleeding? Did he have another fight tonight? Why aren’t you taking him to
the hospital?” I fire off the questions one after the other as I swap out my
sleep shorts for a pair of gray yoga pants. I tug a sweatshirt out of my
drawer, shifting the phone away from my ear just long to pull it over my head.

“He told Ira
he didn’t want to fight anymore.” Robby sighs. “Ira didn’t take it well. Grant
won’t go to the hospital. Can you pin down Ally?”

I slip on my
flip flops, snagging my keys as I head out of the apartment. “Ally and Holden
won’t be back until tomorrow night. Where are you?”

“Shit.”
Robby mutters the word. “We’re at the Old Mill, down on the lower level. I rode
over with Linc, and he can’t leave yet. There are still fights going on. I
don’t know how Grant got here. What?” The last is muffled. Obviously Robby
isn’t talking to me, and seconds later I hear Grant’s mumbled response. The
words too low for me to make out.

“Grace, I
need you to find Cole and have him come pick Grant up.”

“I’m already
on my way.”

Robby grunts
on the other end of the line. “This isn’t a place for you, Grace. Find Cole.”

Starting my
car, I am assaulted by the loud music pouring out of the speakers. I fumble to
turn the volume down while Robby lists all the reasons why I should not go to
the Old Mill to pick up Grant. Taking a left out of the apartment complex, I
head out of town.

“Grace, damn
it, are you even listening to me?”

“Not
really.”

“Cole is
going to kick my fucking ass if you come here, you realize that, right?”

He sounds
resigned, and a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Then you shouldn’t have
called me. I’m still fifteen minutes out.”

Silence
stretches across the phone for several moments before Robby tells me, “I want
you to call me when you get close. Either Lincoln or I will meet you at the
back door.”

“Fifteen
minutes.” I tell him again, before dropping my cell phone on the passenger seat
next to me. The Old Mill had once been a saw mill that had closed down decades
ago. It had been renovated, and at one time had housed a number of small stores
and a couple of restaurants. Unfortunately, none of them had worked out, and
the building was abandoned once again.

I knew that
parties were often held there by local high schools, and the occasional college
gathering though not as often. I hadn’t, however, known that it was used for
this mysterious underground fight club. You would think it would be one of the
first places the cops would look, it was such an obvious choice.

The building
is obviously worn down, several of the windows along the top floor are broken,
and there is only one street light in the parking lot offering a feeble amount
of illumination. There are just a couple of cars in the front of the building,
but when I pull around toward the back I’m stunned by the number of cars that
are lined up in the field just past the building. I pull into the first empty
spot I find and throw my car into park.

I snatch my
phone up, thumbing through my contacts to find Robby’s name as I head across the
field to the back door. There is a group of about four guys standing in my
path. The stale scent of cigarettes surrounds them like a cloud. They are each
holding a can of beer in their hands, and laughing loudly as I walk by.

I can feel
their eyes following me as I make my way to the door. One of them whistles
loudly just as I pull on the handle. I ignore them as I move through the door,
my phone up to my ear as I wait for Robby to answer. When a hand closes around
my upper arm, I can’t stop the alarmed cry that bubbles up.

“You were
supposed to call Robby the moment you got here.”

“Jacob?” I
look behind me, surprised to see Jacob standing there with a frown on his face.
“What are you doing here?”

He glances
down at me, our eyes meeting for just a brief moment, before he looks back up.
He pulls me down a long hallway, past several doors. “Lincoln called me.”

I frown.
“Why?”

We round a
corner, and I can hear the sounds of a crowd of people cheering loudly, along
with the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh. Jacob pulls me past a door
where the sounds briefly become louder before fading out again as we keep
walking.

“This isn’t
the place for you, Grace.”

“I’m just
here to get…” I trail off at the look that crosses over his face. His jaw
tightens, and his fingers flex briefly on my arm.

“Yeah, I
know why you’re here.” We round another corner. “How long have you known what
he’s up to?”

I wince at
the question. Something else I kept from him in regards to Grant. “It doesn’t
matter.”

Jacob jerks
to a stop, swinging me around to stand in front of him. “You’re right, it
doesn’t matter. None of this should fucking matter.”

“Then why
are you here?”

I keep my
eyes locked on his while I wait for the answer. He still has a grip on my upper
arm, and I can’t stop the part of me that revels in his touch, no matter how
slight. When he doesn’t answer I ask him again. “Why are you here, Jacob?”

“It doesn’t
matter.” He tosses my words back to me, the frown pulling even deeper on his
face. “This way.” He starts walking again, pulling me along behind him. He
finally pushes open one of the many doors along the hallway, tugging me in
behind him. I take in the scene quickly. Robby is standing in the far corner,
dressed in just a pair of black athletic shorts and a gray T-shirt, obviously
ready for his upcoming fight. Lincoln is leaned up against a wall, arms crossed
over his chest.
 

Grant is
sitting on the ground, his back up against the wall, holding a towel against
his forehead that is covered in blood. One eye is swollen almost completely
closed, his nose looks broken, and his lip is split open. His entire torso
looks red; like he’s taken a large number of hits.

Tension in
the room is high, and it takes me only a second to realize it’s because of the
man sitting on the lone chair in the room and the behemoth of a man standing
right behind him. The man sitting in the chair is older, and not at all what I
would picture a loan shark to look like as I’m assuming this is the infamous
Ira Manizel.
 
Dressed in dark gray slacks
and a white button down shirt, he looks like he should be sitting behind a desk
at a bank.

Jacob pulls
me behind him. “What is he doing here?”

Ira glances
up from his cell phone, his eyes moving over Jacob and then settling on me. I
shiver under his gaze, instinctively moving closer to Jacob.

“Mr.
Michaels is scheduled to fight for me this evening.”

Lincoln
pushes off the wall. “Your buddy here didn’t leave him in prime fighting shape.
He’ll get his ass kicked.” He glances over to Grant. “Worse than he already
has.”

“That isn’t
my problem,” Ira says. “He knew the terms of our agreement when he accepted the
money. He fights. I don’t care what shape he’s in.”

Frowning,
Robby steps forward. “You won’t make any money off of him. The shape he’s in, he’ll
be done in the first round.”

“I’ll bet
against him.” Ira leans back in the chair. “One way or the other, I’ll get my
money’s worth out of Mr. Michaels.”

“You’ll kill
him.” I mutter, stepping around Jacob and heading over to Grant. I crouch down
next to him, pulling the towel away from his head. The cut over his eye doesn’t
look too bad, but it’s still bleeding so I push the towel back against it. I
look over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing on Ira Manizel. “You make him go out
there and fight for you, and they’ll kill him.”

He smirks.
“Nothing so dramatic, my dear.”

Grant
shifts, groaning as he moves. I keep my gaze on Ira. “I’ll pay you. Whatever it
was, I’ll cut you a check tonight.”

His smile is
maniacal, and fear causes a shiver to run down my spine as he says, “That’s a
very generous offer. I’m sure Mr. Michaels is delighted to know he has the love
of such a woman. However, I don’t take checks.”

“Cash then.”
I snap, turning back to Grant and helping him apply pressure on the cut on his
head. “How much?”

“The terms
of our agreement was for him to fight. I make more money this way. So while
that is a lovely offer, I’m afraid I will have to decline.”

My gaze
moves to Robby trying to will him to say or do something to get Grant out of
this situation. But before Robby can say anything I hear Jacob speak up from
behind me. “I’ll take his place.”

My head
whips around, eyes landing on Jacob. “No,” I whisper, but I can see the
interest brightening Ira’s eyes as his gaze moves over Jacob.

“Now that is
an offer worth considering.” He studies Jacob carefully. “Have you fought
before?”

Jacob nods
his head. “Yeah, I have.”

“He never
lost.” Lincoln inserts, apparently on board with this asinine idea. “I’ve seen
the line-up for tonight; Jake should have no problem with any of them.”

I turn my
glare on him. “Jacob isn’t fighting in Grant’s place,” I say firmly. “It’s not
happening.”

Like I
haven’t even spoken, I hear Jacob say to Lincoln, “Can you help Grace get Grant
out of here?”

I move
across the room to stand in front of Jacob as he talks to Lincoln. “Absolutely
not.” I tell him. “You are absolutely not fighting in his place. That’s
ridiculous.”

For a
second, it’s like we’re the only two in the room, and I feel like nothing has
changed between us. His pale blue eyes are warm as they meet mine. “Grace,” he
says softly. “You said it yourself. Grant can’t go out there. This is the only
way.”

I’m shaking
my head before he even finishes the sentence. “We’ll think of something. I’m
not going to let you do this.”

A small
smile pulls on his lips as Jacob reaches up and brushes a finger across my
cheek. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t have to ask for permission then.”

“Why would
you do this?” I whisper the question.

“Because
he’s important to you, and you’re important to me.”

Before I can
respond Ira interrupts. “As touching as this is, I don’t care why. The fights
start in ten minutes.” He flicks his hand toward the giant man behind him. “Max
will stay to make sure you aren’t late.”

Ira heads
out of the room and seconds later Lincoln and Robby follow behind him, helping
Grant. Ignoring Max, I focus solely on Jacob. “Please don’t do this.”

“It’s
already done, Grace.” Jacob yanks his sweatshirt over his head, pulling the
shirt underneath along with it. He lays both on the chair that Ira had vacated,
watching me as he toes off his shoes. “You need to go. I won’t be able to
concentrate until I know you’re out of here.”

“If I’m so
important to you, then why did you walk away without letting me explain?”

I watch Jacob
roll his head from side to side, rolling his shoulders at the same time.
“Grace, now isn’t the time.”

“Now is the
perfect time.”

Jacob
glances over at Max and then back to me. “I can put up with a lot of shit,
Grace. A lot.” He shakes his head. “But I need you to be honest with me. You
weren’t.”

“I didn’t
lie.”

“No,” he
agrees. “You didn’t lie. You just didn’t think enough about me or our
relationship to tell me what happened.”

“Because I
didn’t want this to happen!” I cry, spreading my hands wide. “I was fucking
terrified that you would break up with me. And guess what? You did!”

There’s a
knock on the door and Lincoln sticks his head in. “You’re up.”

“Yeah, I’m
coming.” Jacob looks back to me. “You need to go now, Grace.”

I can’t stop
myself from lifting up on my tip toes and brushing a kiss across his lips.
“This,” I tell him, “is why we never would have worked. You’re too good for me,
Jacob. Entirely too good.” I pause on my way out the door. “Please be careful.”

Lincoln is
waiting for me right outside the door to walk me out. He pushes off the wall
and leads me back through the maze of hallways. “Cole finally called Robby back
so he’s on his way over to get Grant.” Lincoln pushes open the back door,
nodding his head at the same group of guys from earlier. “Jacob will be fine.”

“Yeah. Can
you just let me know when it’s over?”

“Of course.”

Cole has
arrived by the time we make it to my car, and between him and Robby they have
Grant settled in the backseat of Cole’s car. “What the fuck are you doing here,
Grace?” Cole asks after closing the back door on the car.

“I came to
get Grant.”

“Next time,
don’t.” He snaps. “This business he has himself all tangled up in, isn’t
something you need to be involved with.”

“Relax,
Cole. Let’s just get the idiot home. It’s over.”

Glancing
back to the building behind me, I think back to my brief conversation with
Jacob. It really is over.